Dinner with my BJJ Coach
It turns out that the Gymgirl got sick with the Norovirus and the kid got it from her and I got it from him. She was away this weekend so he and I were home together since Wednesday night with him being a mess and, later, me being a mess.
Him: (softly) I don’t feel so well.
Me: (weakly) Neither does papa. And good use of the word, “well” as an adverb describing a verb versus an adjective describing a…
Him: (interrupting) I don’t feel so well, Papa.
Me: I’ll stop talking and get us some juice.
Essentially, we did next to nuthin all weekend except try to not be quite as sick as we both were. He ended up getting a fever as well.
It was shame because I really wanted to start the year off right and hit the gym hard as well try to increase what little work I’d done since Alison passed.
On the former, I did manage to carve out some time to go with my gym buddies to head over to the Hofbrauhaus here in NYC to celebrate my coach’s birthday.
You can watch him in action – and sign up for his Instagram account – here.
Coach: What should we order?
Me: What are you thoughts of ordering this entire section? (points at half the menu)
Him: (puts menu down) That works for me.
On the latter, I just gave an updated GDPR presentation to a buncha lawyers, which seemed to go really well.
But this Saturday night I was just a sick dad with a sick kid trying my best to keep us from being too sick.
Me: Do you want to read something?
Him: No. I want to go to bed.
Me: Oh, thank god. Let’s all go to bed.
Gotta say, as gross as it is sometimes, still the best job I’ve ever had.